


Marching Ghosts

by zinjadu



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future-fic, probably AU.  Mal has gotten old, even had a family in his time, for all the comfort it brought him.  Written a while ago, rehosting here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marching Ghosts

It was a special day.

Mathew knew that because today he got a day off from school, a whole day (Right in the middle of the term! Oh boy, he loved it when that happened.), and he got to see his grandpa.

Mom and Dad didn’t really like going to see Grandpa. Grandpa had a lot of guns and old pictures and funny smelling liquid that Mathew couldn’t drink. And they didn’t like driving in the neighborhood Grandpa lived in. They said it was old, had too much Independence to it. He would only figure out what that meant in a few years, but for now he didn’t think about it. He liked his grandpa. His grandpa told him stories, stories about space and a ship that his grandpa had loved more than anything. And funny people. Grandpa made funny voices, and Mathew could see the people in the pictures come to life and talk in his mind.

No one else made pictures whirl in his head and talk. Not Mom. Not Dad. Not even Christie, the girl across the hall who watched him when Mom and Dad left the house.

But the best part about Grandpa’s house was that it was a house. His whole life, Mathew had lived in housing, Mom and Dad said it was better, easier, cleaner than owning a place that did nothing but eat up money. And it was safer. His parents liked talking about safety a lot. His Grandpa didn’t. Grandpa let him run around and get dirty and scraped up, and didn’t say anything except that he should wash off before dinner. Cause it was polite. And there were all kinds of hiding places with cats, sometimes kittens, in them. And a big old dog.

But today was special. The best day of the whole year after his birthday and Christmas and New Years. Well. Maybe better than New Years. Or tied. The fireworks were pretty cool. Definitely better than U-day.

The buildings got shorter and then further apart and then they were barely there. Just a house or two every couple of miles, with lots of wide open spaces between them. The road got bumpy, but Mathew didn’t mind. It just meant they were that much closer to Grandpa’s.

Eventually, they turned onto a gravel road. Dad made a face as the gravel went ding ding on the underside of the car. Mathew listened to the dinging and when it went from lots of high pitched ones to a few low ones, he sat up and started looking around for the barn and the house, bouncing in his seat trying to see through the window.

They pulled up to the old house, the house with all kinds of places to hide in and always had a pie or two ready. Mathew bounded out of the car, flinging himself at his grandpa.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, boy,” Grandpa said, wrapping his still strong arms around the small boy. “You’re gonna knock this old man over if you keep doing that.” He bent down so they look each other in the eye. Grandpa always said you could get the measure of a man by looking him in the eye, shaking his hand, and talking with him for no longer than five minutes. Grandpa’s eyes were blue, not like everyone else’s in the family. Mathew and Mom had black eyes. Like Grandma, Grandpa had said once. He didn’t talk about Grandma much, though pictures of her were everywhere. That was one thing everyone did, not talk about Grandma.

“You ready for the parade, son?” Grandpa asked.

“Yup! Mom and I went and bought everything I need to be in it with you. I wanted to have clothes just like you, but Mom said we didn’t have time to do that and we shouldn’t ask people here to do that cause they’re already really, really busy. But I dunno. I think we coulda.”

Dad winced at Mathew’s sudden change in his speaking habits, immediately dropping into the boarder slang that he had tried so hard to erase from his voice.

“Well, you’re mostly right, Mat.” Grandpa stood up, not needing a cane like most old folks. They walked to the house, Greg, the old dog that so much of a mutt no one knew any part of his mix, ran up to them and gave Mathew a sound hello licking.

Giggling, Mathew pushed the dog away. “Mostly right? What’s that mean?”

“Means, Mat, that you didn’t have to ask.” And there, right inside the doorway, Mathew could see through to the living room where a uniform was all laid out for him. Handmade. He ran over to it and immediately began putting it on.

His parents stayed behind to talk to Grandpa.

“Dad, you shouldn’t do this,” his mom said, in her tried voice. “He grows so much every year and it’s a waste. You can’t afford this. And there’s nothing wrong with the outfit we bought at the store. You could have let us know you were doing this. Save us the expense, at least.”

“Dee, everyone here loves the boy. This is just how they show it. And I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“No, Dad, you wanted to make yourself look better to him. You want him to come out here, to stay. He only sees the good side of this life, the parade, the fun in the haystacks, the dog.” She sighed. “He doesn’t know about the work, and the bad days when nothing goes right and you’re about to lose everything.”

“Dee,” his dad broke in. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this right now.” They all turned to see Mathew looking up at them, in his complete uniform, worried and scared.

“Why are people mad?” He looked down and picked at the coat he wore. “Is it cause of—”

“No, sweetie,” his mom said, hugging him. “Not ever because of you. I think you should go outside, now. I bet the cats have missed you. And we know Greg has.”

Mathew bolted for the door, and his mother’s cry of, “But not in your parade uniform!” went unheeded.

And the three adults were left alone.

Mal broke the silence first. “Your mother would’ve done just the same thing there. You’ve got her knack. Though I don’t rightly know if that’d make her happy or not.”

“Dad,” Dee warned, her eyes flashing just like her mother’s would when she got angry. Sometimes it hurt Mal just to look at his daughter. “Look, I know you want to be closer to Mathew, so why don’t you just come live in the city with us? We’d still be on planet, on Shadow, but you wouldn’t have to have special visits. You could see him any time, and you know he’d love that.”

“No, he loves this place just as much as he loves me. More even. And I mean for him to have it when I pass on. It needs to stay in the family.” He looked around at his home, full of pictures and memories and dust. “Your mother understood that,” he whispered.

Dee sighed. She tried to catch her husband’s eye, but he avoided it. He remembered the last time he’d gotten between these two, and it still came back to haunt him.

“I’m not saying that I don’t understand it. What I am trying to get through to you is that this way of life is dying, Dad. There’s no reason for you, or this family to die along with it. We’ve got a good life in the city, good jobs, and Mathew could go to a better school and get an even better job. People die out here, Dad.”

“People die in your city too, Dee! You just don’t see it. They die by inches, worn away and worn down. I’ve seen what progress does to people. You’ve seen it, too, so don’t you try saying you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Mal pinched his eyes shut, not wanting to see his daughter’s angry face, the same face her mother made when he’d said one too many stupid things.

“Well. Then let me go back to dying quietly. At least it doesn’t hurt.” And she stormed out, shoving the door open, making it rebound on its hinges.

Mal sat down, feeling more tired and older than he had in a while, his head cradled in his hands.

“That could have gone better,” Robert said, dryly.

Mal snorted. “Why don’t you talk some sense into her? You always could.”

“Only if she was willing to listen. And even then it was pretty dicey.” Robert sat down opposite Mal, looking him in the eye like his own mother had raised him to. “Mal. Dee. Dee.”

“Dee doesn’t want anything to do with the ranch, I know.” He sighed. “I guess I always thought she’d come around to the idea of owning it one day, being happy with the family land.”

Robert stood up. He would have to find his wife and talk her down from storming off and ruining Mathew’s day and making a lot of things a lot harder than they had to be. Both her parents had problems doing that kind of thing.

“I’m sorry, Mal,” he said and walked out the door, leaving the old man in his favorite chair, the one Kaylee had made for him years and years ago. The family fell apart years ago, the crew that had become so close while out-running the Alliance didn’t last. Dee thinks they were doomed. Mal thinks it was a failure on his part. Robert isn’t sure why they drifted, but they did. Some things just happen.

He frowned in the noon light, the sun beating down on this rough land. He’d fallen back into the old speech patterns, too. This place brought that out in him.

By the old mulberry tree, he found Dee and Mathew sitting close together, her arms around their son. He hung back a moment, listening in.

“Mom, we’re gonna stay for the parade, right?” Mathew asked, plaintive.

Dee sighed and didn’t answer immediately. She stroked Mathew’s dark brown hair, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes, probably thinking it was time for a haircut soon. “No, sweetie. I don’t think we are.”

“But, Mom,” Mathew whined. “Why not? I have the uniform and Grandpa says I can!”

“Because, sweetie, it isn’t good for your Grandpa to me marching in the parade, and it isn’t good for you.”

“Mom, what—”

“I know it’s hard to understand right now, hon, but you will when you’re older.”

And then Mathew started to cry. “I don’t wanna go back home! I wanna march in the parade, and you can’t stop me!” He wiggled out of his mother’s arms and ran, ran through the trees in the grove to the pasture land full of animals.

“Mathew!” Dee cried, getting up to follow him, but Robert held her back.

“Let him go for a little bit. He knows enough to not get hurt.”

“Damn it, Robert,” she spat, pulling away from him. “Why do we come to this place every year? It’s just full of bad memories. For the both of us, and we keep coming back.” She rested her head back against the rough bark of the tree. Robert sat down next to her and took her hand.

“Because we’ve still got family here, Dee,” he told her.

Dee said nothing, but made some noise, whether in agreement or disparagement of Robert’s remark, he couldn’t tell. They sat there for a few moments longer, in silence, until Mathew came bursting back out of the house, Mal following close behind.

“Your Mamma said you aren’t to stay, Mathew,” Mal was explaining to the distraught and angry boy. “Means I can’t let you. But don’t worry, next year you can march with me like you always do.”

“But it won’t be always if I don’t do it this year! Can’t ever be always.” Mathew sniffled and wiped tears away to look up at his grandfather with accusing eyes.

Mal could only chuckle at the display of logic. “You got a fine mind on you, boy, no doubting that. Get that from your mom and grandmom, but that means you gotta be smart and do as your mom says while you’re still growing.”

Dee and Robert stood up and made their way over to Mal and Mathew. Dee took Mathew’s hand, pulling him to her side. “Thank you, Dad. For not being stubborn for once.”

“I never was gonna try to take him away from you, Dee. You’re his mamma, but you might want to think about how stubborn you’re being, too.”

“The difference is, Dad, is that I’m right this time. And you know it.” She strode off to the car, getting Mathew inside and getting into the driver’s seat. Robert followed.

Mathew pressed his hands to the back window and watched as first his grandpa and then the ranch faded out of sight. This would be the first year he wasn’t in the parade. Mal wouldn’t go either. He didn’t see the point in it at that moment.


End file.
